Letting Freedom Ring

Dear Santa, yesterday was our final Public Relations Department Christmas luncheon. What’s left of our department attended. As far as I can tell, only three of us out of the 20 or so, were what they call “impacted” employees. None of the L’s attended, nor our web developer in the Philly area. The L’s have been with the company forever and they just couldn’t bear the notion of saying goodbye.

The video guys and I went. Hey, it was a free lunch. I never say no to a free lunch – I mean an actual free lunch, as in food. However, in the best tradition of a free lunch (as in “there’s no such thing”), it was Mexican food and I had to work my way around the stomach-gutting spices that would flame my stomach later on.

We had a lot of fun. Technically, it was a business meeting, so our department manager had to say something about business. After that, it was all fun and games. We went to a place called “Dave & Busters” and spent the afternoon in team challenges of Skee-Ball and Daytona Racing. The Daytona Racing was the funniest. I’d never played it before and the machine had no instructions telling you which pedal was which. Consequently, I drove backwards into some sort staging area and couldn’t get myself out. A technician had to come and get me out.

Once on my way, I did okay. I knew I wasn’t going to win because I was too far behind. Still, I kept at it. I kept the car on the road. Having ridden on motorcycles, I understood the dynamics of taking turns. I came in 4th out of 5th, so at least I didn’t come in dead last.

Watching the subsequent races was just so funny. One racer drove the entire race in reverse. Everyone hit the wall coming out of turns. I was coaching a teammate to keep to the inside of the track and not over-steer. She was in first place until I was chased away for distracting her. After I left, she started hitting the wall and turning her car over. She finished last place. She was mad at me until I told what her ranking was until I left.

Ah, it’s so much easier to tell someone else what to do than to do it yourself. Watching all those cars flipping over was hysterical. This was not reality, so they bounced right back again and continued on their way, but went down in the ranking. What was it some guest of Glenn Beck’s said? “A recession is when your neighbor loses his job. A depression is when you lose yours. A collapse is when everyone loses their job.”

That’s why the L’s didn’t come to the “party.” Those of us who are resilient (and fatalistic) can absorb such jolly hilarity in the midst of a lay-off. Nearly all the employees at the party were keeping their jobs. I wasn’t thrilled about going to this party. I refuse to cry, though. Never let them see you cry, I say. Whatever comes tomorrow, I had a good time yesterday.

We each received a $25 gift certificate at Target, where I bought Glenn Beck’s The Snow Angel, Christmas with the Kranks (one of my co-workers was telling me about it; a film where one family declares itself the boss of the neighborhood and bullies a family that decides not to decorate for Xmas), and a mini-bullhorn (I know you put that there for me – thank you!).

No one ever listens to me, Santa. I figure I’m in good company. They didn’t listen to Jesus. They didn’t listen to Churchill when he warned Parliament that Hitler was building up Germany for war. They didn’t listen to Madame Chiang Kai-shek or any other number of prophets.

My blog is doing well. Not everyone reads blogs on the Internet, though. I’d love to be able to reach an even wider audience. I had radio programming courses back in college and got A’s. I’m funny and have Mom’s gift of gab. I’d give those people out there who are out there asleep a wake-up call.

I have a good knowledge of culture, Santa. I know all the best Conservative movies. I’ve made a list of the books Conservatives need to read (I’m almost up to 14,000 books and still have stacks to go). Right now, I’m working on an article for my blog about N.J.’s redevelopment plan.

This draft the state put out is just an unbelievable mish-mash of bureaucratic happy-talk, spin, politicalese. In short, it’s unfathomable. In order to understand it, the words must be carefully parsed, somewhat like one of those cinematic thrillers where a character decodes a message using holes in a painting.

New Jerseyans need to be told in plain English that the government is basically planning a landgrab. If they try to read this thing, they won’t get it or feel so crushed by its bureaucratic weight that they’ll simply go as limp as a fish. They need to be charged up about it, because this is the final push towards communism.

I’m just an average person, Santa. I’m not an intellectual. I don’t think, speak or write like an intellectual, although I try to refrain from vulgarity and profanity. The average people need to hear this news from someone like them. Someone who isn’t perceived as “rich”. [“What a snob, you are, Lizzy,” said Uncle Gardiner. “Disliking poor Mr. Darcy just because he’s rich. The poor man can’t help it if he’s wealthy.” – Pride and Prejudice, 2207].

I would just need an hour or two a week, Santa. My voice wouldn’t hold out much longer than that, anyway. I promise I’ll be a good girl and not rant or break things. I’ll leave that to the OWSers. We Tea Partiers are trying to fix things, not break them.